5 Times Spock told Jim Kirk to get out
by Endles
Summary: and 1 time he didn't. Kirk/Spock


**5 Times Spock told Jim Kirk to get out + 1 time he didn't**

**V. The one with the chair (and the whole damn ship)**

The pain, it was unbearable—and so was the presence of James T. Kirk.

"Earth may be its next stop, but we have to assume that every federation planet's a target."

Kirk had found his way to the captain's chair, looking far too comfortable for the situation. It almost looked like he was at home, made to be sitting on that chair. It was a stupid thought, of course, and Spock brushed it off his mind. The stress and the pain of loss caused it, surely.

"Out of the chair"

Surprisingly enough, the man did that. But after that, he didn't do as well to consider the propositions of his commanding officer. He did listen to Spock's words, eyes wide; disbelief mixed with a sense of undeniable hurt swirling in them. It was almost fascinating, Spock noted, though most everything else he usually would have taken a mark of slipped his attention. How could the man standing next to him, in front of him, pacing all around the bridge and almost following him, like he felt, be hurt? He wasn't the person whose planet had just a moment earlier disappeared. Maybe it made him angry, but he wasn't about to show it.

But the man kept disagreeing, making rash decisions and throwing his words on Spock's face, as the saying went. He was leaking that anger and hurt out of his body, and with no other place to rest, those feelings found their nest into Spock's mind, unsettling his thoughts making it impossible to think.

He tried. He made a logical plan of action. They couldn't go against a vessel so much ahead of their own in defenses and weaponry, no much how Kirk insisted.

"Spock, don't do that-"

That pleading voice, laced with irritation, made something inside Spock snap. It didn't show, no way, but he felt it. He needed to get this man off the bridge, away from him.

"Security, escort him out"

Of course the man couldn't go nicely. He fought back, and the tension inside Spock would've wanted to escape as he watched the man, but he couldn't. He knew that just grounding him wasn't enough—

"Get him off this ship"

Maybe then he could think in peace, with only himself with the man's thoughts worming their way between his. Maybe then he could regain the control over his emotions that had started to slip in the man's presence. Maybe then…

Somewhere, he knew it from the beginning that it was futile.

**IV. The one in his room**

Life on enterprise turned out to be actually very nice; everyone on the bridge crew had sort of bonded through the crisis they had been pulled through together, making them a strong team. Mostly everyone was also very young, which meant that if they sometimes made mistakes they made it up with their energy and ideas, and so life aboard was never boring.

For Spock, though, the most important thing was that for the first time in his life he felt perfectly at ease. The pain caused by the loss of his planet, (and as he secretly thought more important: the loss of his mother,) was there, as he believed it would be for the rest of his life, but he'd started to feel comforted on the Enterprise. Everyone there held a respect for each other, and his friends- for the first time he seemed to have people to call as such- all respected him.

With the sole exception of one Jim Kirk, or so it would seem

In truth, it wasn't that the captain didn't respect _him_, quite the contrary; he was very aware of the Vulcan first officer's talents, and liked to voice his appreciation on almost a daily basis. But rather, the obnoxious human seemed to toss away all concepts of privacy, when it came to him- much to Spock's disapproval.

That's why he wasn't exactly shocked one particular star date, when he found the captain from his bedroom as he was returning there after his shift. On the other hand, he wasn't exactly thrilled either.

"Captain," he said tautly, and remained standing by the door, not-glaring at the man (Vulcans didn't glare,) "May I inquire as to why you are in my personal quarters, without requesting a permission?"

"Oh, it's simple really," the human said with mock innocence, spinning in _Spock'_s chair where he had been seated, "I'm testing my skills. You had some excellent safety codes there, Spock, it's no wonder you're my first man."

"Thank you, sir," he said without an ounce of humor in his voice, "You have exceedingly broken the regulations concerning personnel's privacy."

"I am honored," Kirk said with a chuckle that tickled on Spock's nerves like nothing else.

"As am I, captain. Get out."

The captain outright laughed at that, but gripped the rests of the chair, standing up. Then he walked away past Spock without another word, leaving Spock alone. The Vulcan didn't sigh, like he felt, but instead decided that he'd meditate the man out of his system. That would bring him peace, till the next time they meet.

He ended up discussing the matter with Nyota, whom listened to his description on how many ways he found the man's behavior illogical, and why he could not see the point in his actions. He definitely was not ranting about how the man irritated him, as that would've been a human thing to do.

"Oh hun," the woman sighed out as he'd finished, and it was only because Spock had spent so much time around her person, that he could hear the faint sad tone in her voice, "you just don't get it, do you?"

"Is there something I am disregarding in this matter?" Spock asked, slightly puzzled. She shook her head and smiled a smile that most would see as heartening, but to him it was almost bitter-sweet. And he was very estranged by the fact that he had to rely on so much a human term to deliberate the expression.

"Sweetie," he beckoned for her to continue, as she paused to collect her breath, "I think it's time that you and I… went different ways."

Spock raised his eyebrows, both of them. He couldn't hide his surprise. It obviously pained her on some level, and she'd given no warning, so he couldn't bring himself to understand the point of it. And maybe it was that she'd developed the ability to read him better than he'd thought her capable of, but just as he was about to question; to comment something on it, she stopped him by answering the unanswered question with her reasoning.

"It's been in you some time already, I guess you can't see it, but I do. I see all the reasons too, but it still is- it's just that- I mean," she had to cover her mouth in an almost painful grip, as tears filled her eyes. Spock remained silent, but let the wish to comfort her slip into his face. After a moment she swallowed, and took a few shaky breaths.

"I did love you Spock," she smiled, wiping away the wetness from her cheeks, "but I'll get over it, and maybe it'll be better."

Spock nodded slowly, "I still do not completely understand-"

"Oh you will," she cut through, with a real smile. The pain was there, but this new form of fondness, seemed to overrule it, "Trust me Spock darling, you will."

And he trusted her.

**III. The one in the lab **

"Captain," he spat out, faster than usual, but void of any signs of the irritation he truthfully was beginning to unappreciated, "it would be best in our both interests, if you'd leave now. I'll have to return to my work, and I am quite positive that you too should be returning to your duties most urgently."

Kirk stared blankly for a second after his speech, (as if to progress the information, Spock noted,) until a familiar mischievous grin spread onto his lips.

"Oh, but Mr. Spock… I rather disagree, with your claim there," the man said, hopping to sit on the table right next to Spock's hands and thus quite effectively cutting his thoughts, "you said that I have somewhere else to be, but that's not the case. Right at the moment I have no more important place in the universe to be, than here with you."

He tried to touch Spock's hand reassuringly, but the science officer drew it away from his reach, looking as pissed as anyone with Vulcan blood could.

"I suppose you mean 'here, interrupting my progress,' _captain_," he said coldly, moving his hand to pick up the data PADD from the table. Except that he was stopped, before he could, by Jim grabbing his wrist. The touch sent a jolt of sensations throughout his body. Only the shock of surprise kept him from not tearing his hand away in a manner that would most probably result in injuries for the captain.

"I'm not entirely sure if you really oppose that much, _commander_," the man said, speaking with a hushed and low tone, loosening the grip on Spock's wrist to let his hand slip on top of the Vulcan's. He softly slid his fingers underneath the hand, so that he was stroking the man's palm with them.

Spock shuddered. He hadn't been touched in such manner since they had parted ways with Nyota. And it surely hadn't ever felt like this, at all. His usually perfectly functioning mind was melting into an incomprehensible mess at the touch.

Until he heard the loud clapping sound of the PADD falling to the floor

That broke the spell Spock had (apparently) fallen under. Instantly he ripped his hand free of the other's grasp.

"Get out," he said, too fast, to defensive, like he was angry. But he wasn't, not only because he wasn't supposed to be, but because- he didn't know. Yet something in the situation unnerved him, almost to the point of him admitting that he was Scared. _Almost._

Kirk smiled, but it missed the energy of his usual smiles, and something in his eyes was off. "Now, now, Spo-"

"Get out," his voice wasn't so sure anymore, and for a second he felt the illogical urge to run away himself, "Get out," It was more like a plea than anything, but he kept saying it, "get out."

He knew he was acting in an undeniably rude manner, speaking in such way to his superior officer, even if they weren't really on duty, but he still could be punished, but then again the captain himself had been breaking regulations, and disrespecting his personal space, his work and he could sue the man, and he knew his brain was working on overdrive (compared to previously not working at all,) because it was _clear_ that none of this would happen. He paused his thinking, and looked up to the strikingly blue eyes of his captain, and was totally, completely, utterly immobilized by the sheer amount of tenderness he found there.

And also the-

The hidden-

He did not dare to even think the name of the emotion.

"Spock," the human said softly, "I'll be waitin' for you, so come."

And with that he left, leaving behind a very confused half-Vulcan, who's supposedly nonexistent emotions were a mess. A big damn mess.

So he did the only thing that came naturally to him in that situation:

He followed orders.

**II. The one in the middle of a sexual intercourse**

He was on fire, the human's warm hands were everywhere and never were they should've been, and he was drowning on the feeling of pure ecstasy. The pleasure of his captain filling him so completely was making him lose every last bit of his Vulcan composure, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. He could only press against the man, answer every last of thrusts, and let those dreadful, embarrassing even to his Vulcan mind, sounds escape his mouth, until they reached their peak together.

After finally ceasing even the last of movement, the thoroughly spent human slumped on top of him. Spock couldn't find it in himself to complain; he was slightly tired, and content with the human's warmth. He would've liked to lie there with Jim on top of him, listening to the man's calming breaths for the rest of the technically-not-night, but of course, life wasn't that kind on his wishes: the ships alarm chose that exact moment to sound, and the Vulcan had to suppress the very human urge to sigh.

So unwillingly he started to get up from his comfortable position in the bed, but there was one problem. The captain, whose ship was just at the moment expressing the need to be protected, was still lying there on his stomach, apparently trying to suffocate himself into his chest.

It wouldn't have taken him much to just unceremoniously roll the man away, but he decided it would've been too cruel, even from him.

"Captain," he started, "I'm led to believe that our attention would be required the bridge, rather than on your bed."

No response. He willed away the exasperated tone that was trying to slip into his voice, keeping it neutral.

"Jim."

That earned him a hum, which he thought was perfectly enough to ensure that the man was indeed listening.

"Get out."

"Out of you, or out of the room?" Came the slightly mumbled answer, "Cause I'm not sure if I wanna do either."

"Doing both actions would be preferable," Spock said with his professional voice, "and I am afraid that you _must_, captain_. We_ must."

Kirk muttered curses under his breath but started getting up, freeing Spock from underneath him. Exactly four point twenty two minutes later, as Spock noted inside his mind, the two more than a little unhappy officers were back on duty. And for once, neither had any sympathy towards the ensigns that had caused the whole ruckus.

**I. The one on the planet**

For once in his life, the praised and honored starship captain of the USS Enterprise, felt very unnerved; even slightly scared. But damn if he didn't have a good reason, because he sure as hell did.

Who wouldn't feel more or less frightened when on a dead-end situation on a previously very much uncharted planet, facing an alien creature twice your size and ten times your power with no weapons, except for the phaser that might just as well explode to their hands that was currently held by his first-class first officer? Oh, and there was no help to be expected from the ship, either, their transporters had been temporarily jammed, and it would take even Scotty's expertise at least ten more minutes to get them functioning.

By then he'd probably be out of the picture for good, so yes, he had all the reason to be closer to panic than he'd ever been in his life.

It was just that; there were no solutions- he'd gone through all the possibilities several times in his mind over the course of the few seconds he'd been backing away from the source of his discomfort- none that he saw.

That was why he was slightly shocked when his first officer's yell, cut through his panicking thoughts:

"Get out of the way, Jim!"

Huh, there was an idea. Lie down and play dead, maybe the thing would go away. On that second he also realized that the man had called him by his first name, and that made him smile despite the situation. At least he'd die happy.

At a serious note, the starship captain immediately dropped to the ground. He was open, defenseless, but he trusted Spock. With his life.

And it certainly was worth it. He watched as a deadly-set phaser beam flashed above him, hitting the creature square on the face, efficiently turning it into dust that was blown away with the wind. Jim Kirk stared wide-eyed at the place where the monster had just seconds before been, crouched over him, ready to kill him dead or eat him alive, or something else equally nasty. He was pulled out of his slight shock by his Vulcan ship-mate who hurriedly (and worriedly, if Jim knew anything at all about life and emotions) dropped down next to him and grabbed his shoulder to get his attention.

"Captain, are you alright?"

Jim watched as the barely hidden discomfort and nervousness swirled in Spock's very much humanely brown eyes. And smile cracked his face, slowly spreading wider and wider, until he was outright grinning like nothing could be better in the world.

And what could be? He was still alive. He still had his ship crew, mostly unharmed, and the best of all things…

"Spock!" He spurted out with a breath of relief he hadn't noticed he'd been keeping in, "You saved my life!"

"So I did."

"You disobeyed orders! That phaser could've exploded right at your face; it was a damn big risk!"

"A calculated one, captain, there was a 24,56% chance of it working," the man said, something softening in his eyes and turning them to the color of molten chocolate, "and with you, I think that is as much as I am ever going to get, so I was more than willing to take it."

Kirk's voice hitched audibly as his breath caught in his throat. This was Spock, the perfect Vulcan scientist, the best first officer fleet had ever seen, his commander, his Spock- and here he was now, practically saying that he'd cast away logic, for him. He had to slap his hand to his mouth to prevent that shuddering half-sob from escaping.

"Spock- never die because of me. Never die for me," he pulled the man by his neck, so that their foreheads were touching. Twirling his fingers into the commander's black locks, he shakily inhaled and continued, "And that's an order, you hear? If I am to die before you, and surely I will, I want you to keep on living-"

He leaned forward pressing light, but urgent, kisses on Spock's lips, having them returned with as much need, but never really deepening them.

"I want you to live long and prosper," he said holding the Vulcan's face with both his hands to pause their touches. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt glad that he'd ordered to beam up the rest of the landing party before this whole mess, "Because if you would die, I couldn't. I couldn't live without you."

"And what, captain, _Jim_," Spock whispered as he brought his own cool hand to cover Jim's, and brought their fingers together in an intimate Vulcan gesture, "makes you believe that I," there was a pause, in his speech when Jim started stroking his fingers with his own, "could survive," again he had to stop, letting out a slight hissing sound as the human started nibbling at his chin, "without you?"

Against his lips, huskier than his normal voice, Jim breathed:

"I don't know, Spock, I don't know."

And as they shared one look of longing, before moving apart and transferring back aboard the Enterprise, they both understood the words left unspoken, hidden in that gaze:

_Just don't die and we'll never have to see._

**0. The one time it wasn't needed**

Warm, bright colors swirled around him, forming incredibly beautiful, twisted textures, only to dissolve a second later. He breathed the scent of the human around him; deep breaths of his anxiousness, his leadership, and his irritable-lovable personality. He was filled with him to the point of spilling over.

Somewhere far away he started to gather himself together again. He ordered his thoughts, his very own being into a line that cut through the gold surrounding it, and curled himself into the middle until the fog faded away to the edges.

And yet- _he_ didn't.

There he was, even clearer than he had been, right at the very center of his being; his own mind had formed a thick, protective wall around him.

_Hmm, Spock? _

Jim's voice sounded from his own mouth, rang in his ears as if it were his, and filled his mind with all the questions that were conveyed in those two words.

_I'm here. I'm still inside your mind._

Left unsaid and hanging in the air was the final doubt: _Should I get out?_

"I know," he answered, aloud, and heard Jim's voice speak.

Only the silence whispered: _stay._

Everything was calm and peace and good feeling, no reason to move. After all, he had no reason to turn down what he knew to be perfection.

**End**

Fun fact: I started writing this 8 months ago.


End file.
